Jerry Crasnick has a piece up on ESPN.com about Brett Gardner (and Daniel Murphy) which drops right in with this little diddy:

NEW YORK -- The New York Yankees' center fielder is 5 feet, 10 inches and 185 pounds worth of former college walk-on, forever driven to prove people wrong. He plays the game with the exuberance of Bo Obama frolicking on the White House lawn.

Later mentions this:

He received the nickname "Squirrel" from a teammate who said that Gardner reminded him of an old high school buddy. To Gardner's relief, the name hasn't picked up any steam in New York.

And finally arrives here:

Cashman has called Gardner a Juan Pierre who can walk, but Gardner will have to post an OBP at least in the .340 to .350 range to prove he's more than an extra outfielder.

I didn't take a picture, because that would be weird, but I found out something about the New Yankee Stadium during our descent into Section 112 that really pissed me off (pun intended... wait for it). There are dividers between the urinals on the Field Level, but not anywhere else in the Stadium.

Is it a huge deal? Of course not, but could there be a better symbol of how much the Yankees have bent over backwards to cater to the wealthiest customers and how they could care less about the core fans? By installing the dividers at the field level, they are acknowledging that it matters, but only providing the "luxury" to those purchasing the most expensive seats. It's an issue of simple human decency, and they can't possibly cost that much to put them in.

Have you ever had a friend who desperately tried to date someone who was out of their league while ignoring a person who was legitimately interested in them? The object of their affection was strikingly attractive, but even if they gave them the time of day, it was just to be nice. The second option wasn't as good-looking, but they had actual feelings for your friend and probably would have done anything to be with them. Guess what, Yankees, the corporate guy, who you want to sit in the insanely expensive seats... he's just not that into you.

Forgive the sweeping generalization, but most of the people who could afford the highest priced seats at the New Stadium are not real fans. Here is why: If you have a job that allows you to spend anywhere from $100K to $800K on two Yankees season tickets, you aren't going to have much time in the day to read blogs or listen to sports talk radio. Wealthy folks also go out to dinner pretty often. When do they do that? Probably in the neighborhood of 7-10 at night, give or take, and three or four star restaurants aren't going to have the game on TV. The more money you have, the more options you have, and everywhere you look in this city, companies are bending over backwards to cater to what remains of the uber-rich. The Yankees are just one option; an option that's not in Manhattan and requires an commitment of 81 games and a small fortune.

The people (and corporations) who buy those seats are never going to love the Yankees as much as the average fan, and the direction of the economy has blatantly exposed that. There are still some who could absorb the price increase in the new building, but for them it was a luxury. You can tell by the outrage and disenfranchisement of the people who were displaced from their affordable full or even partial season ticket packages that they thought of it as a necessity.

It's clear that it doesn't make sense to alienate the average fan in the name of the casual but much wealthier fan from a loyalty standpoint. Given the state of the nation's finances right now it doesn't makes sense in the general ledger either. Did it ever? Ben K. from River Ave. Blues doesn't think so.